#toasabbamvitatham2023

[lunaede]

you know what they say! don't ever in jugdral.

#the polite knight ╱ ooc. #svverdane2023 #this was a wild ride #toasabbamvitatham2023

[ashenprofessor]

The mountain should fear us

They had been led out of their holding cell but a pair of guards to be taken to a mining pit to be put to work. Their new 'friend' Daniel was with them and they are instructed to bring what was left of their weapons too. Byleth felt more capable knowing they had their trusty gauntlets ready as they venture deeper into the mountain.

Arriving at the designated site, the guards drop them off with knowing grins on their faces. Before them are winding passages and caves to traverse to clear out for the miners. Byleth led the way into the first room, noting immediately the presence of creatures there waiting for them.

"Great. Of course the witchy mountain contains horrors hidden away within." The Professor told their teammates.

Pulling on their Aura Knuckles, Byleth noticed the skeleton, hiding towards the back of the group, bow in hand. A perfect target for the first attack, take out the support. Darting forwards, they drew back their fist ready to strike.

Byleth 10/10HP hits and hits Bonewalker 12/12HP with Aura Knuckles (One-Two Punch). [Rolls: 15, 6; Hit!, Hit!; Damage: 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, Bonewalker 7/12HP]

The first hit catches the skeleton in it's boney shoulder, knocking it off-balance before the second hits square in the chest. Undeterred, it raises it's bow to fire back.

Bonewalker 8/12HP hits Byleth 10/10HP with Devil Bow. [Roll: 12; Hit!; Damage: -2.5HP, Byleth 7.5/10HP] (Devil Bow roll: 1. Failure) Bonewalker 7/12HP loses -2.5HP; Bonewalker 4.5/12HP

The arrow soars through the air and pierces Byleth's arm. Pausing, to break off the shaft, Byleth looks up to notice the skeleton almost seem to wince. The bow in it's hand glows red and seems to draw something from the enemy leaving them weaker than before. Some sort of cursed weapon, the Professor wonders.

Wanting to capitalise on the opportunity presented, Byleth moves in again for another attack.

Byleth 7.5/10HP hits and hits Bonewalker 4.5/12HP with Aura Knuckles (One-Two Punch). [Rolls: 9, 7; Hit!, Hit!; Damage: 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, Bonewalker 0/12HP]

Byleth knocks it's skull back with a glancing blow before swiftly adding in an upper cut. The skeleton's head pings off the top of the spine before rolling away with a clatter across the floor.

Returning to the group, Byleth rolls their wrists, casually remarking. "That's Bones taken care off. Who wants a shot at them next"

@amitieos, @dracofalchions, @sweetroyalberry, @rafent

#thread: the mountain should fear us #svrigel2023 #combat team #ashenprofessor #amitieos #sweetroyalberry #dracofalchions #rafent #toasabbamvitatham2023

[theofficersacademy]

At last the temperature begins to rise a little, the blizzard relents, and the snow melts just enough to allow travel to and from the monastery again. A backlog of mail arrives in one giant cart and the couriers spend the next several days sorting letters and packages for their recipients. Among the care packages, the notes from doting mothers, and the pining essays from distant lovers are letters describing situations far more dire. Unfortunately, many are dated from months ago, stalled by the storms until now, but that makes their contents all the more pressing.

In Valentia, without their new king and queen, without their gods, the people grow restless for something to believe in. Some groups have begun to take matters into their own hands, write concerned aides, and rumors have reached the castle about their aim to resurrect Mila and Duma. With resources already stretched thin by the recovery efforts, they could use some help with the investigation and subsequent quelling of such delusions.

In Jugdral, shadows still linger in forgotten places. Now that many of the continent's war veterans and nobility have traveled abroad for education, they have seized this moment to crawl back out into the light. From Grannvale comes news of remnants of the Loptyr church attempting to bring back Loptous. While the letters insist that these are, most likely, simply rumors at best, or a failure in the making at worst, they are not without a note of concern. Children have started going missing again. Others have been kidnapped in broad daylight. It would be wise to return home soon to assess these problems yourself.

In Elibe, whispers surge anew, and they speak of a second coming of The Scouring. Dragons have been sighted in distant skies, they say, real dragons breathing fire and ice and shaking the earth to its core. Elimine's church preaches acceptance, and its criers herald the beginning of a new era of peace and harmony. Those less optimistic instead sharpen their weapons and bolster their defenses in preparation for war.

While Garreg Mach monastery has its own troubles still in the aftermath of the blizzard, permission is granted to students and faculty from Valentia, Jugdral, and Elibe to return home this month if they so choose. A handful of knights and other students will be sent with them, in case trouble is indeed to be found. This is not a mission sanctioned by the church, however. This is entirely personal.

You make your decision to return. It's just for the month, and you're hopeful that these rumors are just that: rumors. Along with the allies and friends you've made from other lands, you travel to Enbarr to set sail.

What’s Going On?

Welcome to Sabbam Vitatham, the fourth anniversary event for the Officers Academy! Please continue reading below for information and rules.

This will be an evolving event. Instead of a traditional mission board, each of the six groups will be given a setting to explore. New information will come to light weekly, and situations will shift as time moves on. Use what your muse knows (or doesn’t) about the country they're in to make decisions, brainstorm threads, and ask questions.

Muses who are not participating in the event will be left behind in Garreg Mach. However, characters from Valentia, Jugdral, and Elibe who did NOT sign up to participate in the event but would narratively be involved (e.g. Celica, Seliph) can be assumed to be tagging along as well. Their participation will be off camera.

The Snowglobe mission board will be extended through the end of this month, but no new missions will be added. Use this month to catch up on past threads or thread together about your classmates and colleagues who have left for the event.

Sabbam Vitatham General Rules

Signups are closed and will not be reopened. The ship has sailed.

Find your muse's boat here.

You must submit your inventory by 11:59PM EST on August 3rd using this link. You can only bring items that you have claimed and classes that you have mastered. Do not include your class' mastery abilities as separate inventory slots. You can choose to not bring a weapon.

You will not be allowed to switch teams.

You may only start Sabbam Vitatham threads between August 1st and August 31st. Event threads may be continued after the event, but no new ones may be started. Likewise, only IC posts made between 8/1 and 8/31 will count toward prizes.

Your muses are already on their boats, so you will only be able to make event interactions with those who are on the same boat with you. As groups are split into different teams, you will only be able to thread with your teammates. However, if you wish to make farewell interactions with other characters who are being left behind at the monastery or journeying elsewhere, you're free to do so. These interactions will not count as event posts.

We encourage creativity and exploration. This is not an event that will solely be focused on combat. The results from your signups will be revealed as the story progresses, so ask questions, think outside the box, try new things, and do what your character would do in these situations.

We also highly encourage “Paralogue” threads. These are mini threads focused on character development or exploring something that interests you or your muse, parallel to whatever main objective your team is after. These do not have to be related to any prompt given by the mods. Paralogue threads enrich your campaign experience, so thread away as the inspiration strikes!

Please tag all event-related IC posts with #toasabbamvitatham2023. When split into your individual teams, your tag will change.

This event will allow muses to die. This can happen at any point during the event. Regardless of what happens to your muse, you will still receive all prizes at the end.

Sabbam Vitatham Schedule

August 1st - 3rd : EMBARK August 4th - 10th : ?? August 11th - 17th : ?? August 18th - 24th : ?? August 25th - 31st : ??

Discord

There is a new lobby channel for general event discussion and a new #openthreads channel for event-use only. Plotting channels for each team will be opened on the 4th. Please use these channels for event-related discussion or planning.

Prizes and How to Get Them

Two sets of prizes will be awarded for the Sabbam Vitatham event.

PARTICIPATION PRIZE.

All muses entering the event automatically receive one of these prizes upon joining. You may message the masterlist as soon as you have made your first event post.

Canon Lord characters: You are granted access to your exclusive promotional class. This class will have mastery requirements of a Master Tier class and will also require rank A in Authority and a drabble. Please message the masterlist to claim it. To see muses that qualify and their corresponding prizes, please refer to the fourth page of this sheet. You will also be granted your Personal Skill. Please refer to the section below.

Characters who have not claimed a Personal Skill: You will be allowed to claim your Personal Skill. Please refer to this sheet for examples and guidance on crafting one for yourself. Characters who already have personal skills in their respective games will receive their canon skill, so you do not need to design one. If you need help designing your skill, please ask for advice in the personal skill workshop channel in the Discord server. All personal skills must be submitted to the masterlist’s inbox to be approved though.

All others: If your character participated in past lore events and has already received all participation prizes that they are eligible for, you may claim an additional ability that you qualify for from the ranking chart.

If you prefer to hold off on choosing your participation prizes (i.e. waiting on skill points, etc.), you may do so until the grand prize claim period after the event. However, keep in mind that you may only feature any new abilities in threads after claiming them.

If you have already received your personal skill but would like to retune it, please submit a new proposal for the skill during this event. Mod Ree will also be rebalancing the ones that have already been claimed to fit the new rules.

GRAND PRIZE.

This will be awarded at the end of the event to any muse who reaches a minimum of 10 IC event posts. Contains:

One free skill point

Two choices from an event-limited selection of prizes

And a third prize — unknown for now

More information on that will come at the conclusion of the event, so for now, use what you know about Valentia, Jugdral, and Elibe to lend your help.

And as always, feel free to message the masterlist or use the Discord if you have any questions.

- The House Leaders

#toa announcements #toasabbamvitatham2023

[redmessenger]

final exams crunch hours

open for valentia boat!

"In the past, Valentia was ruled by two gods: the Earth Mother Mila, and the War Father Duma. They were Divine Dragons, and siblings."

As Fódlan's port becomes a distant dot on the horizon, Lukas takes it upon himself to lend some insight to their new comrades. Alm, Mae, and the rest of the Valentians aboard are well aware of what's at stake—the peace at home was hard-fought, but fragile. The others would benefit from some context.

"Each had a different philosophy on how to guide humans. Duma insisted that hardship created strong men. Mila believed that a life without strife created peaceful men. After centuries of fighting, they came to an Accord, splitting the continent in two and ruling each according to their values, vowing to never invade the other's land. Eventually, Rigel was founded in the north, watched by Duma. Zofia to the south, protected by Mila. There was peace for a time... all the while their minds slowly degenerated, as is the fate of all dragons. Their minds were no longer sound, their blessings erratic... all the while relations between Rigel and Zofia broke down. When Rigel's king invaded the Temple of Mila, the Accord was broken, and our countries went to war."

It is not Lukas' intention to completely bypass the war between Zofia and Rigel, but he does not want his allies to miss the point. "When we finally put Mila and Duma to rest, they decreed that their slumber was never to be disturbed, for the age of gods had passed. Our kingdom's founding is rooted in this passing of the torch, from gods to men, but not all have accepted this... should even a shadow of Mila or Duma return to Valentia, the power and authority of our King and Queen will likely be subverted in the people's eyes. We can ill afford such a thing."

#toasabbamvitatham2023

[hosannan]

“ Nanna, ”  he asks of her company, his mind in five hundred different places now. How could it not? They are homebound, earlier than expected, but the letters they receive hold contents too dire in matters to ignore. He cannot. He is to be New Thracia's king, and he cannot abandon the peace he has fought long and hard to try and create.

“ Is there any place you want to see? ”  Though such a question could be seen as lighthearted, Leif's face is one etched from stone, watching the waves pass them by as he does.  “ ...I want to see Fiana. Eyvel can handle it, I'm sure, but... ”

I'm worried.

He doesn't have to say it to let Nanna know, he's confident. To her, it is just as dear, isn't it? But when he hears of the child hunts, he thinks of Thracia, and when he thinks of Thracia, he cannot help but think of their childhood.

It's been a while.

“ I need to see August. I don't know what's going on, but I might need to look everywhere. ”

Farther than just home. Farther than just Thracia.

Far from Nanna.

He intends to part from the main group, to investigate things himself. He is not patient enough to work with the handful of knights that have been assigned to accompany them— perhaps not patient enough to wait for anybody really.

When last they talked of home, he had promised her a ring from Miletos. Now? Perhaps there will be no rings in that building marketplace.

Just as there still are no rings on either of their left hands.

She grasped for his hand, clutching it close to her heart to keep it from caving in. "Leif..." The essence of something perpetual is etched into his name, as it drew a lengthy breath to fill her lungs. He was asking for too much this time. (No, not really. He had never particularly asked for this. Just as she had never known what lengths he would go to without her.) It had always been a calculated risk to leave Thracia, and they were paying for it with their stomachs looped into crosses. She should say something, but the more he speaks the more her words trickle back into her throat. It tasted of moon salt, or whatever it was that the night was made of. If distance could have a taste.

"..."

Her gaze was still, thoughtful—lids up-turned as he recounted Eyvel, Fiana, August. All of which she yearned to see again. Not in another life nor under these circumstances, but somewhere in the peace they had carved out for them. Hadn't they? Hadn't they carved out peace? What had become of their home while they were away?

When he asked if there was a place she'd like to see, she wonders if he means for her to pick at a low hanging fruit. There were plenty of places to go before that.

"...You should know, dear. You promised." Patience glittered in her emerald eyes, years of promises still manifesting in fields of green. "I..."

Her hands slid away, clasped behind her back. Bouncing to the same livelihood that she had promised to her people. "I wish I could go with you." There's a conditional hanging over them— a silken sheet, still soaked, overhead. But I have to investigate these disappearances. Those children need me.

"I want to go home, Leif. With you. I don't..." Want to ask for more. When the words leave her, she realizes she can't be like this. She's never asked for more than what he could give her, in outstretched arms. And she's never had to ask for more. He was already doing so much, even now.

"..."

"If you see August, Eyvel and... our friends. Our family. Make sure you let them know I am right there with them."

She unclipped her feather, musing on a number of matters that called for her presence in New Thracia. And for his fate as king. Pressing it into his hands, closing it as she went, she lightheartedly tapped his fingers together. Like a locket clicking closed.

There are still no rings on either of their left hands. Just anticipation locked in place of a promise.

"Take me to Miletos, won't you?"

"You promised."

#diadic #{ npc leif joins your party just to leave it #toasabbamvitatham2023

[twistedisciple]

event mini for @nelithic

He finds her at the front of the ship. A few others linger around, gazing off at the sea stretching endlessly into the horizon as long as boredom will allow, but for the most part she stands apart from them, the figure of a sentinel unable to relinquish her vigilance for leisure. To say that Griss hadn't sought her out immediately would have been untrue, but he does so partly because of some relic of duty, and partly because she is a rare familiar shape here.

It's the former that he holds onto consciously, and yet the latter colors the unreserved way he approaches her.

"Yo, dragon!" he calls with a flash of teeth and bright eyes. He knows her name by now, but her rigidity inspires the opposite extreme in him, toeing the line of blasphemy for the thrill. Coming right up next to her, he drapes his arms over the bulwark to search the horizon for whatever she'd been looking for just a moment ago.

"Actually, sounds like they don't like dragons too much where we're going," he amends, although without any promise to call her by her name. Glancing at her sidelong, he tries to gauge her expression, but her face is like reading ink beneath ink so he gives up.

That's not what he'd come over here for anyway.

"I heard from Lord Rafal that you've got a few knights, but I've never seen 'em around," he continues. "You're looking at a fell disciple though. Serving Lord Sombron's kids is part of the job description." Not to protect, of course. As a human, Griss hardly entertained the idea that he was strong enough for that. But he, along with all the others who were gone now, had all been raised for one purpose: sacrifice.

"Just say the word."

#nelithic #event thread : nel1 #toasabbamvitatham2023 #// griss vc: want me to die (become corrupted) for you queen #// also rafal namedrop to get nel to do the shocked pikachu face

[justices-blade]

you're gonna have a boat time // team valentia open

He's not seasick. He is not seasick. He is absolutely. Not. Seasick.

The boat rocks. There's water everywhere. Edward lurches with the boat, groaning from where he's sitting in the middle of the deck with a killer headache. Oh Yune, he's definitely seasick.

This just isn't fair, man! He'd thought that maybe, maybe after the boat trip from Tellius and all the water nonsense from the arena bouts he'd be better at not being a dead fish on deck, but, ha, of course he isn't.

This is stupid. All this just because of a bit of water (it's a lot) and a wobbly boat? The, uh, noticeably shakier breathing and the fact that of course the best cure to seasickness is looking at the dang sea really, really, really isn't helping!!!

Still, it's somehow more miserable trying to sleep it off belowdeck, and the fresh air is doing him good, but he's not sure how much longer he can pointedly avoid looking at the ocean and opt for the blue, blue sky above instead. Actually — Maybe he should pester someone into some cloudgazing...

The ship lurches again. Edward groans and squeezes his eyes shut queasy for like three different reasons right now. Ough goddesses, halp.

#toa open #;e. sabbam vitatham #toasabbamvitatham2023 #;t. you're gonna have a boat time #i realised i didnt do the title post thing but honestly this is a mini idc if the title gets nuked

[allegreta]

heilmittel

#[ ooc ] #[ title post ] #[ thread: heilmittel ] #liegebound #svzofia2023 #toasabbamvitatham2023

[fangedjustice]

"Dog."

They hadn't been properly introduced at the Ethereal Ball - when the man had had the gall to get into Raven's face, to dangle what precious little he had left in the world sitting far and away in Etruria and to promise danger - but he wasn't the only one who could do his research.

Reed. He didn't know the families of Bern nearly as well as the families of Lycia, but when he'd done his digging the name carried weight in the same way that a folktale might, the whisperings of bogeymen and protectors of the smallfolk alike. He'd reached out, contacts that he'd developed, spent some coin and earned a finespun yarn for his trouble of fangs that gleamed in the night.

He knew it wasn't the other man's preferred epithet - his brother's, if anything - but he also knew that Lloyd would respond if he addressed him.

He would not have a choice, trapped at sea as they were, and looking just as green about the gills as Raven had been when he first traveled across the sea to Fodlan.

Raven seated himself beside the other man, keeping his face neutral and his voice low, turning his back to the other passengers.

"Homesick, are you? So concerned about these fairytales that you thought you'd check in with the family?" Raven leveled his gaze on Lloyd's, knowing full well that the other man's family resided safely back at Garreg Mach.

Raven's, however...

He resisted the urge to find Priscilla in the crowd, at least for now, but he knew she was on the boat.

He pitched his voice even lower, and leaned in, clenching his fist where the scar on his palm had healed into a neat white line. "You will remember your promise, or you will not be returning."

Foolishly, Lloyd had let himself think that maybe -- just maybe -- his terrible experience sailing to Fodlan had been a fluke. He'd not been at his best, and perhaps that was what had caused all the trouble.

But, no. Despite the first little bit after leaving the docks being uncomfortable but bearable, he now felt hollowed out and drained of everything that could possibly come back up through his guts. Everything rocked. There was no solid ground here, nowhere to feel like he could steady himself and at least put on a front that he was unbothered.

It would be embarrassing, if all his willpower and thought was not currently being poured into not heaving over the rails again. Really, what could be left at this point?

"Dog."

Lloyd grimaced, still facing the open ocean, hands gripping the railing with alternating pressure as the sea pushed the ship this way and that. But he made himself straighten out, stand tall. Show as little discomfort as possible. Not so easy to accomplish when it was clear he wasn't used to this sort of travel, but he could at least remind the ill-tempered lordling that even as he was now, he had fangs.

"We're on the same boat, are we not?" Lloyd returned with a question in kind, both of them making jabs but neither doing so outright. "I do not think you would come all this way simply for image. Keeping someone close, hm? Several, perhaps?"

Linus was back at Garreg Mach, much to his younger brother's outrage. That had been...an ugly conversation. They'd not left things on good terms. But Linus would be in less danger in Fodlan, could cause less trouble there -- in a certain light, that is.

But Nino was an unknown factor, and as much as Lloyd had thought leaving her in Elibe would be better for her future...there might not be a future if these rumors were anything more.

The ship lurched once more, the creak of rope and wood in his ears as Lloyd turned to meet Raven's gaze. Seemed they were on even ground now. Not a fool, this one. Lloyd could understand why Linus was intrigued. If that desire for justice wasn't so narrowed, so self-destructive and bitter, Lloyd could see a world in which the Black Fang took him on.

Lloyd smiled, all teeth once again, just like the night they'd spilt blood for promises they both knew were likely to not keep. "My lord, you think me a man of such little honor? With you here, and my brother behind us, I've no reason to do anything but make sure you and yours return safe and sound. I gave my word, and while that might not mean much in your circles, loyalty means everything to mine."

But this was not that world.

#toasabbamvitatham2023 #[ehehehe ive been chewing on this all day] #[i just like how they verbally body check each other in the guise of polite conversation] #SV Event Ask: 2

[laslow]

"We are bound for the land I was born in," Sara shares in a particularly quiet voice, wistful as she looks on the horizon. It will be days before they come close to approaching land, but her eyes remain fixated towards the distance like she can clearly see Jugdral's shores already.

"You should be careful. Though there is no questioning your skill with a blade, those we will soon face avoid direct confrontations when they can. Our adversaries will employ tactics that could be considered underhanded. The laws of the Church can be unforgiving. Dissent is punishable, traitors are executed. They do not value their lives or rather, they were taught not to by those higher in the chain of command." Light vanishes from Sara's eyes, expression growing increasingly listless until her whole face has become devoid of emotion.

"Your life belongs to the Lord. Your soul never truly vanishes from this world. You may suffer an unpleasant earthly death, but you live on through Loptous". An agonizing melancholy washes over her, one that takes Sara back to childhood. She laughs and does not know why. "It went something like that. I do not recall it anymore. I am telling you because I do not wish for you to die."

He'd been humming a sea shanty under his breath, coiling rope and generally staying out of the way by the bow when she appeared. The sun sinks lower, staining the sky shades of orange and gold. Laslow glances up at Sara, finishing the last coil before bracing his hands against the railing.

Mouth remains shut while she speaks. Interrupting now feels rude, almost dismissive of the trust she's placing in him by voicing her thoughts and concerns aloud. He's honored by her trust.

Gaze flicks over to her, side profile outlined in radiant yellow against the deepening blue sky. A shiver trips down his spine that has little to do with the fair breeze keeping their sails full. Her recitation of such an ugly vow followed by her laugh makes the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Laslow swallows, attention returning to the sea.

"Thank you, Sara. It feels right, somehow, that I should return to your homeland with you." After everything they've endured together, this feels like the natural course of things. Not quite an ending; he's said enough goodbyes for two lifetimes to ever rush along another. A new beginning instead, perhaps, or at the very least yet a wider understanding of the world.

He's careful when choosing his next words. "The Church sounds a lot like a religious sect I once fought. Perhaps it is a good thing you no longer remember their teachings with stark clarity. It means you not only survived, but found the will to move forward."

A tiny smile graces his lips. "But I will keep your words in mind. I'd rather not die so far away from my family. The same goes for you--I've always got your back, Sara. And if...if I don't get the chance," he starts, once more facing her, "I'm elated our paths crossed for this long. Promise me you'll keep smiling, yeah?"

#TSUUUUUUUUU :FACE_HOLDING_BACK_TEARS: #I LOVE THEM SO MUCH #their friendship growing over the years [clutches chest] #all is right with the world etc etc ini/sara event buddies ride again #he respects the hell out of her and treasure their friendship #thank you so much for sending!! <3 #support: sara #toasabbamvitatham2023

[rafent]

"Ah, hello! Rafal, was it? I am Leanne, of the heron tribe." Leanne makes her way to the grumpy dragon's side soon after the rest of her comrades disperse. The silver-haired man is a dragon, his self-proclamation confirming her suspicions. He feels more similar to Grima than Kurth or any of the other dragon laguz, but he's a lot more forward about his heritage. Interesting! "I do apologize if we bothered you earlier. While it is important to build rapport, it was not my intention to cause you distress."

Leanne's instinct is to hum a soothing galdr to dispel the tension and soothe the man's distress. It takes her some small amount of time to realize the folly of this--Rafal had specifically complained about the shanties, and here she is following that up with her own tune! Hopefully the magic already released will ease things, but if the dragon truly cannot stand the sound of singing…

Leanne fishes in her pocket, procuring a small wrapped caramel. She'd packed a fair few sweets for this journey, thinking it wise to bring along easily-preserved, high-energy snacks--plus, of course, they taste quite good. Rafal seems to have a taste for them, so maybe this can serve as penance for earlier?

"Please accept this with my most sincere apologies, Rafal. And another, for my own mistake." Two caramels is a little costly, but he obviously needs it, given his attitude. And if she is to speak with him on the topic she so desires, she simply must get in his good graces. "We herons utilize galdr, songs of old magic. It is instinct for me to slip into it sometimes, and I did not mean to reoffend your sensory sensibilities."

"Forgive me for asking, but you said you are a dragon, yes?" Leanne wracks her brains, trying to remember the information on her comrades. He is from...Elyos, yes? The same land as Zelkov and Alear. "I am not certain the classification of dragons where you live, but in my homeland of Tellius, there are dragon laguz with a similar--" oh, what is the best word to describe this in modern? "--feeling-aura, to you. It is wonderful to meet you!"

After his episode Rafal found the quietest corner he could, wishing not to be bothered and expecting it, too. Not many brave souls saw fit to approach the prickly Fell Dragon after he showed his true colors; his fury easily ignited, his attitude severe sometimes even cruel. It thus struck him as a mystery when an ally sought him out with kinder words than his earlier outburst deserved, even going so far as to come with a pair of offerings in hand.

"Humph, your intentions are transparent. Come to buy my forgiveness? You will find that I am not an easy man."

He said that but accepted the caramel drops without a second thought. The rustling of a wrapper followed next. Eager to pop the accompanying source of sugary salvation into his mouth, he nestled the caramel in the inside of his cheek where a maple-like flavor spread outwards. A bit warm, a bit misshapen from the heat of a pocket, but absolutely divine. He made a noise straddling a sigh and a moan. It tasted salty and sweet like the sea, though Rafal didn't wish to be reminded of his sickly circumstances any more than necessary—ah, but he had company, didn't he?

Returned to Leanne's presence, he trained his attention more carefully- curiously- upon the delicate heron to find that their inhuman natures were mirrored even if not identical. Such a fact was reflected in her curiosity for his origins. He would have been lying if he said his sense of intrigue wasn't piqued just the same. Galdr? Old magic? "I am a dragon, yes. A Fell Dragon to be specific." Though it was knowledge that might have earned him fear or hatred from those outside Gradlon, Rafal didn't hesitate to say it. He continued just as smoothly.

"I know not of your dragon laguz, but in my world there are a number of dragons. My kind is born in pairs of twins. All of us children of Sombron—each destined to fight and kill their twin and their half-siblings in the struggle to be his one true heir."

Those were only the basics- and as much information as two candydrops could earn. Beyond the schematics, Rafal would not go into details about their powers. His goal to stop here, however, wasn't marked by any unfriendliness; in fact he went so far as to grant sweet Leanne the boon of a warning. "In any case, I will remember your name, Leanne of the heron tribe. But if you wished to make friends, you are better off finding someone else. My twin would have served a kinder prospect than I."

#◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ╱ askbox. #allegreta #toasabbamvitatham2023 #leanne soft smile hello #nonhumans eyeing each other like i Know What You Are #rafal: us fell dragons kill our own twins #also rafal: my twin is nicer than i am why don't you find her #it's also cute to me how leanne compares rafal to kurthnaga in particular when he's likely more similar to naesala

[daeificatio]

byleth loses -2 HP to a table and -3HP to frederick

Before them, a large hole that seemed bottomless.

Around them, a group of guards keeping them from escaping.

And in the corner- Colla.

Byleth didn’t want to jump to conclusions so quickly and brand Colla as a traitor- particularly since he didn’t seem to be involved in the matter at hand at all, but it was hard not to think about it. Sothis herself seemed keen on believing they were led into a trap by Colla and now were going to be captured and…apparently sacrificed considering the talk between the guards. 

‘Prepare their blood.’

It was already an ominous statement, but somehow it filled him with even more dread than usual. A feeling similar to back at the village, where his body felt sluggish and no longer his own and Sothis refused to answer his calls and questions. It was the same now as he turned around only to see Hilda being grabbed by one of the guards.

Powerless. Byleth had been brought to this academy to guide students and care for their safety- and look at where things were going. A man who so far was more used to taking lives than protecting them, of course he’d be a shoddy teacher who can’t keep track of his own group. He had to make up to all of this later- now, focus on getting out of this alive and with everyone by his side.

Frederick was making an attempt to feign being ‘in’ on the guards’ plan and so they had to act quickly. They needed a distraction to disrupt the ongoing order, so…Byleth attacked Frederick- or at least pretended to. In reality he just jumped at the man as if he were going to punch him and thankfully Frederick played along. It was working, they just needed to get the guards to move and…

…and then Ephidel nailed an actual, real punch to Frederick’s stomach, much to Byleth’s shock. So much so that for a short second the professor lost focus and forgot that he was supposed to get pushed by Frederick and propel himself towards the guard holding Hilda so he could try to grab her and then make a run for it.

Indeed, Byleth did get pushed by Frederick. But he was caught off guard, stumbled on his own feet and fell face down. 

Good job on getting captured, Sothis’ comment echoed in his mind. Byleth couldn’t even apologize at this rate because again, it was his own lack of focus and attention that led him to this situation. He tried to struggle, but his already broken hand made it quite difficult to try anything that wouldn’t result in even worse injuries. All he could offer was an apologetic glance to Hilda and then hope that his teammates would figure something out.

He did not expect a kick in the groin from Frederick though.

He did it by accident. It’s okay. Don’t blame him.

But damn, it fucking hurt.

After that some other things happened as well as some dialogue but his mind was far too busy trying to manage the unfortunate injury to the point he barely even registered when the world around them went black and once more they were transported to another space.

#svverdane2023 #toasabbamvitatham2023 #the flow of time guided me here. drabbles

[ashenprofessor]

Nuns among us

#thread: nuns among us #toasabbamvitatham2023 #svrigel2023 #ashenprofessor #elusivia #lightofcreation #fellincanation #team sus

[theofficersacademy]

Piece by piece, Elibe, Valentia, and Jugdral dissolve away. There is no end to your stories. No mystery solved. It all merely disappears like the shattering of a dream, abrupt and uncontrollable.

You awaken in your beds at the Officers Academy as if you had never left. There is no sign of a blizzard, or letters spelling your homelands' demise. The world feels a little too at peace. Were it not for your allies' recounting their own expeditions, you might have been willing to believe that it all had been a dream, but you all remember the same things.

One group brings news of a mysterious girl named Pasithee, child of Celephais and Keranes from the village Rusalka. These illusions had been her creation, though to what end remains unclear. She desires to kill you, but not yet. You bought her time.

Many of you find it difficult to sit with the idea that what you had experienced had been mere illusion, so you choose to rush back to your homelands again to be sure. The trips are uneventful, and the countries are just as how you remembered them before you left for Fódlan.

The people that you met in the illusion, however, still exist, and they remember you.

                                             — Sabbam Vitatham, end.

Closing Procedures (please read carefully!)

The events of Sabbam Vitatham are over! You have all woken up from what you believe had been a very strange and harrowing dream. Everything at the monastery feels too normal.

Time will not reset this year and will transition straight into the Great Tree Moon. Characters who did not participate in the event can choose whether to refresh their characters as new to the academy starting this month, or can continue to write them as if they have been here the whole time. Whichever makes the most sense for your muse.

You are free to continue any Sabbam Vitatham threads you have ongoing, and you may start epilogue threads involving your characters returning to their homelands this month. These posts will no longer count toward the grand prize though.

Discord

All event channels will be closed on September 7th, so save what you want from them before then.

Prizes and How to Get Them

PARTICIPATION PRIZE.

All muses who made at least one IC event post automatically received the participation prize described in this post.

GRAND PRIZE.

The prize package below will be awarded to any muse who reached a minimum of 10 IC event posts.

This includes interactions on the boats as long as they were with other characters also participating in the event.

As a reminder, pre-departure interactions with other muses not on your boats do not count towards the event.

Be sure that your posts have been tagged appropriately.

Grand Prize

Knowledge Gem: A special gemstone that grants a drop of knowledge to the user. (One free skill point towards the user’s skill of choice.)

Two event-limited prizes from this list. (Your muse must have the corresponding rank to claim. Note: All B rank prizes will have solely out-of-combat effects)

And a special item from the land you leave behind: Shield Ring: A Jugdrali ring for those who spent their time in Verdane. Grants a moderate boost to Defense. Barrier Ring: A Jugdrali ring for those who spent their time in Aed. Grants a moderate boost to Resistance. Speedwing: An Elibean feather for those who spent time in Ilia. Grants a moderate boost to Speed. Energy Ring: An Elibean ring for those who spent time in Nabata. Grants a moderate boost to Strength/Magic. Fruit of Life: A Valentian fruit for those who spent time in Zofia. Grants a moderate boost to HP. Nethergranate: A Valentia fruit for those who spent time in Rigel. Grants a moderate boost to Dexterity.

CLAIM SCHEDULE.

Please send the masterlist an ask to claim your event prizes during the allotted days for your team. Claims sent outside their respective windows will be deleted.

9/1-9/2: Dedicated to regular claims. This is if you are ranking up in a skill after placing your August activity skill point into your stats page, mastering classes, etc. This does not include ranks from the Knowledge Gem, so please wait on those. 9/3-9/4: Team Ilia participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/5-9/6: Team Zofia participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/7-9/8: Team Nabata participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/9-9/10: Team Verdane participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/11-9/12: Team Rigel participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/13-9/14: Team Aed participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. After 9/14: Normal claims resume

The submission period is from 12:00AM EST the first day to 11:59PM EST the second day. We at least need to receive it during this time frame. Use the clock in the Masterlist’s sidebar to double check the date and time if you are not sure.

If you miss your window to claim your Participation or Grand Prize, you forfeit these prizes. Do not procrastinate.

If you missed the initial 9/1-9/2 period to rank up after an activity point, or if you claimed your grand prize but forgot to rank up with the Knowledge Gem, please wait until after 9/14 to send in these regular claims.

HOW TO SEND IN CLAIMS.

When sending claims, please send separate asks for event-specific claims and regular claims, even if the regular claim is due to the event (i.e. from ranking up via the Knowledge Gem.)

Event specific claims: all participation prizes (including rank chart picks), personal skills, grand prize claims Regular claims: activity point rank up, knowledge gem point rank up, class access/mastery

As always, please feel free to ask any questions!

- The House Leaders

#toasabbamvitatham2023 #toa announcements

[princessmacedon]

an arrival in nahan

Saltwater laps at her boots, stripping away a handful of sand and plastering two more to her heel. Hers is the first boat to touch the shore, but even the sea drowns in her ears, its susur swallowed by the irreverent beating of her heart. It rockets, from spine to sternum and back again, so fiercely as to throw her stumbling into the foam. Water grapples at the hem of her dress, flecking it dark and darker still; distantly, she is aware of someone else's hands, forceful as they hook her elbow and gentle in the catching.

"--Michalis," is all she gasps, watching the other boats come in. In all the chaos, she had been holding his hand, but hers is empty now. Whoever dragged her out of the waves releases her when she does not run back in. It won't help anyone if she panics, and she presses her palm, fingers splayed, against her chest. Perhaps Tiki will need her. Perhaps she should check on Frederick. What of Nanna and Sara, who have not yet reached the shore? Miss Ayra and her dearest Larcei? There must be something she can do for someone.

Her focus turns outward, and her heartbeat calms; Michalis never comes.

When the last of them arrives they number nine, a sorry bunch no more formidable than a clowder of drenched cats, soaked to the bone and some of them bereft of fang and claw. She herself has lost not only her great grandfather's heir, but his shield as well, and something in that fact makes her feel so small.

Too small for dreams and all such things she clings to (tries to cling to), but just right for their only-almost-even split of five and four. The innkeeper and his pity make a gift of two rooms for one night, the larger half sent to the one with the sturdier door. Her body tucked against the wall, fingers wrapped loosely around her ankles, Maria makes herself smaller in a big room, just like she always used to. Someone is murmuring somewhere, but she is too tired to... to...

In the early morning, Michalis is still not there, and Maria thinks he surely must have met a distant shore. He is too saddled by guilt to leave her abandoned overlong, and moreover he is far too stubborn to die: therefore, he must be elsewhere, dour but alive.

Sleep never reclaims her, having long since ceased to be a place of repose. Instead, she marks the time in the measure of the sun's halo refracted in raindrops crawling down the window pane; they are long gone come the calling of their fractured convocation, but the speaking-- the purpose she finds in it-- is better than the silence.

Perhaps it is just the taste of the wind in Verdane, but the scent of spring comes and goes, a flower on the breeze. Frederick (a 'sir' would suit his name warmly, like a winter coat) calls for what information they have at hand, and simply put: they have none. Maria does not hesitate to politely raise her hand, bidding for attention as though she were still inside the classroom.

She remembers the houses, half-built, and the crumbling walls. Gathering information has never been her forte, but she loves people as much as she cannot leave them be. She gives, but she does not trade; there is no promise of information, and though she hopes, she does not expect. But--

“I want to help them, if they need it. If they have wounded, I could help heal them! I would like to, if I can. May I? Please?”

They let her go with a promise shared not to leave alone, and she hurries down the stairs.

The innkeeper is like a metronome at rest, leaning neither toward hostility nor friendliness, but rather standing pin straight in the middle. Nevertheless, it was his kindness that allowed them safety and a good night's rest, and the warmth it kindles in her heart flowers on her face a smile. (If she allows herself a moment of wishful thinking, then she would like to think he wavers once.) And she gives to herself a well-worn mission, that she might savor all the kindnesses she's shown -- what good in the world she sees, she would dearly love to sow.

She presses him, almost to a point of worry, for where she might make herself useful. Not once does the innkeeper insinuate there to be a wounded soldier, a scraped knee, or even so much as a sniffly nose in the town. For all her curiosity, she learns of one person beyond the chores localized to the inn: a woman named Parsa, bereft of sheep and possessed of problems.

But the others are all gone or sleeping, and even sweet, beloved Tiki has run off with the others to play. Never one to break her promises if she can help it, the little cleric upholds them twofold, setting herself to the tasks of floor scrubbing and window washing in the safety of the inn. She's not the best at it, but she's certainly better than she would have been a few years ago by hops and skips, and it helps that she has enthusiasm aplenty to match.

It's when she pauses to wipe the back of her hand across her brow (working hard, yes, but mostly delighting in striking a pose like unto the characters in her books) that Maria spies what seems to be a merchant enjoying her lunch. The plethora of bags holds promise and catches Maria's attention, reeling her in until she stands next to the woman's table. The merchant, for her part, carries her words like she carries her coins: each one counted, their weight and worth carefully measured. Another one or few are added to the pile when the balance comes up short, and always clipped ere they threaten to overflow. Even so, Maria finds no fault in her answers (she is asking the wrong questions, like as not).

Indeed, things lost at sea sometimes washed up on the shore, the information parted with, somewhat unhappily, a word of advice. Quite clearly far more intriguing is that Maria offers to purchase something from that picked-clean shore, though the price to be shown is that she must show. One hundred and fifty-nine gold; unimpressive as it is, that is all she has.

And all she has will buy her a bridle, if she will forfeit it -- an odd thing with bells hanging at its woven joints, clearly as cared for as it is worn. But what a troubling thought it is, to forfeit her every coin! She cannot think of a beloved voice that would not chide her for it, and so far away from home she is uneasy to relinquish even this small security.

But Iote's Shield is heavy in its absence, and hers is a bleeding heart; she cannot say no, not when someone else's heart might bleed for their memories, too.

Gold dances between the merchant's knuckles, but with little more to give, Maria has little more to get. Word of the situation in Grannvale and elsewhere is vague. That they are doing well is a joy, of course, but she cannot forget the shadow that stretched behind Sara that night on the ship, just as she cannot forget the children stolen away from their homes. Sacrifices, all, just like she had been once -- only they did not even have the dreadful fortune to sleep. Whatever haunted those who called Jugdral their home had left many sorrows in its wake; would it be a kindness, then, to resurrect such nightmares for the sake of her curiosity? To light the match and dangle it near the wick of panic?

She cannot rightly say that it is.

"Thank you very much, Miss! Safe travels, wherever you go!"

Later, the professor will remember her shield and bring it back to her, crusted in sea salt and accented with kelp though it might be, and she will hug it to her chest and tell him that it is her brother's shield. Oh, there is a bloodline behind it, a nation she loves and a crown in its steel, but from the first time Michalis defied Papa and snuck it into her bedroom whispering histories to his two sisters cuddled by his lap, it has always been his. It kept him safe when he fell; it kept him safe when he fled; it kept him safe when he returned to her, and it will keep him safe when he leaves again.

Later still, when they have all reconvened, she will raise the bridle before them in hopes of returning it home. Its owner will recognize it-- probably-- mostly-- and Maria will not think too hard after so many years why her memory frays only in sudden, uneasy splotches. The surer and the more well traveled will plant fingers against a hand drawn map, charting a tentative course to Verdane, and they will make ready for a departure in Nahan.

#toasabbamvitatham2023 #SVVerdane2023 #drabble #the gist of the 4th through 6th for maria i suppose?! #though i guess it wound up pretty vague HAHA

[hosannan]

He had taken notice of her near immediately at the gathering to leave Something about that blonde hair and eyes full of fierce determination strung a chord in his memory. She carried herself with an air of layered grace - someone who has seen the world and tasted its mercies yet still smiled at the dawn. Someone who was kind. It was out of the ordinary for him to approach a stranger for a rude curiosity, but something, something in his mind told him to speak to this young woman. As he watched her chat with others, the blazing passion of Lachesis passed his thoughts. Hm. How strange. Well, she did resemble her. A younger version of his sister, perhaps. Strange, was it, that he would think of Lachesis now....He had only just arrived in Fodlan and now it seemed like he was leaving. "Excuse me, miss, might you need any help with weapon maintenance?" It was a lousy excuse to talk, as excuses went. Shame flooded Eldigan's head. He should just stick to sticking to the side and stop waxing poetic about the past.

Recognition gave way to clouded waters, as she tried to make out what this presence had meant to her. Ares... Her mouth rounded to call out his name, but froze on the 'A' as bells chimed off in her head. This was not her dearest cousin, but a man she kept dear to her posthumously, as his writing detailed his allegiance to a man of legend. He, himself, was a sort of legend—in the eyes of her mother, who hailed after his name for years after his passing. There's a silliness to it, that arched her heart like childhood swings. "Oh dear..." Her smile crinkles to life, half teetering on the precipice of laughter. "Oh, you don't know, sir, how closely I've kept you to my heart."

His letter was the reason she started her own collection of letters, and his quick thinking was the reason why she had the very weapon that he had passed down to her mother. And from her, to Nanna. "...I hardly think..." She's struck with a keen shyness, wriggling to keep her thoughts straight while her mother's hero stood before her in the flesh. Quietly, she unveiled the Earth Sword, curving it before his eyes to see for himself. "...The Earth Sword needs any more maintenance than it's been allowed."

Its strange, rune-like texture crumbled like that of the Earth, lending itself to be difficult to toil over. Nanna, herself, poured hours into polishing it, treasuring its cracks and worn edges much like an old friend, rather than a sage she whispered secrets to. Her smile reaches her eyes, knowing that the man before her had seen the world and laid his head on the altar for one last time. His sacrifice had been, in her mother's words, kind. And in Nanna's eyes: heartbreaking.

Her heart still crumbles, to look at him this way.

"You are..." Her eyes flutter to the sword at first, to come up with something triumphant, something noble to say to him. Instead, they flickered back to him, to reminisce on something she should have kept a better secret. Having unsealed the wax stamp pressed onto his letter by nightfall—after having lost herself in a fit of silent grief over her mother—she shamefully put his handwriting to memory. She remembered working with the candle that night, to melt the seal back into place.

"...My mother's truest sun. My cousin's earnest will."

A soft prick of tears reach her eyes before she can help herself. She wonders why she hoped a letter would fill that space in her heart. (But it did. And it will.)

"Oh..." She curled back a knuckle to dry her eyes. "My name is Nanna. Of Nordion."

"It's nice to meet you, uncle."

#toasabbamvitatham2023 #lionheartoath #{ oh (softly) :tearsinmyeyes: #{ also nanna lore: she read the letter in the dead of night as a child